“Lance, I want to go home now!” she said, freezing in her tracks. “Take me home now!”
“I will, baby,” he said, searching her eyes. “But please hear me out. If you feel the same after, I’ll take you straight home. Please.”
He tried to take her hand, but she yanked it away.
Disappointment flashed in his eyes. “The ink is all but dried on my divorce papers.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“I guess people do grow apart,” April responded icily.
“Charlotte and I were never together in the way that you think.”
April narrowed her gaze at him. “What do you mean?”
“She was available … and to be honest, I took advantage of her.”
April grimaced but held her tongue.
“Like you, she was a virgin, and I … I just wanted a notch on my belt. I didn’t use a condom because I was thinking with my other head. And I was stupid enough to be surprised when she got pregnant.” Lance held her by her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. “But April, you were always my girl.”
“Your girl?” she snarled, stepping away from his grasp. “Then why didn’t you come after me?”
“Baby, at that time I didn’t have enough man in me to do that.”
April swept her hands through her hair and looked away.
“I knew you were hurt, but my dad told me it was just as well. He said that I should leave you alone and face my consequences. Dad liked you—a lot,” said Lance, adjusting his stance to face April. “My family talked to Charlotte’s family, and they decided we should marry and move away before the baby was born.” He continued, “April, what point would there have been to tell you all that?”
Yes, his story made sense now. But even at that moment, she was still feeling the sting of so many years, and logic was the last thing she wanted to find in his explanation.
“I wanted to die that day,” she said, looking down into the sand which clung to her sandals. “It hurts even now.” She stepped back. “You were my best friend.” She looked into his eyes. “I let you touch me in ways I had never let another boy touch me.”
“I know,” he whispered. “But Charlotte kept coming around the gym after practice and well … you know.” Lance kicked the sand under his feet and noticed the waves crashing closer to the shore. “Not that I was consciously trying to spare you, but I just … treasured you in a way that I didn’t treasure her.”
“Do you realize how messed up I was after that?” Suddenly, suppressed feelings of pain erupted. “I just Do. Not. Trust. You,” she said coldly. “What right do you have to even expect that I could?” Her hands balled into fists. “Are you going to take me home now or not?”
“If that’s what you really want,” he said tentatively. “But I don’t think it is.”
What an ass! Thinking that a nice dinner and drinks could earn his way back into my heart. Truthfully, she was more angered by the fact that he actually had.
Without warning, April’s fury got the best of her, and she unleashed a slap that connected with Lance’s jaw. Then she bolted into the moonlit darkness.
The breeze in her hair, on her face, and the mist from the water wasn’t enough to calm her down. Suddenly, she tripped over a beach-ball-sized rock, cracking the heel on one of her shoes and plunging her headfirst onto the wet sand. She scrambled up, only to slip again and hit her head on the rock.
Disoriented, she scrambled to her feet, but instead of running inland as she intended, she was heading straight for the water.
Chapter 9
Lance, momentarily stung by the slap, made a quick recovery. But he was too late. She rushed into the night as fast as those heels could carry her.
“April, stop running!” he yelled, hurrying towards her. But his words fell on deaf ears. She was running one minute, staggering, then on the ground the next.
He saw the wave coming before it hit the shore and yelled, “April, come back!”
Before she could turn around, the wave’s long tendrils snatched her away.
Lance ran into the water. The cold water lashed him as he moved further into the turbulent surf. April’s screams become fainter, and his heart slammed against his chest. He hadn’t swam since high school, but he had to find her quickly before she was pulled farther away and drowned. He’d come too close to lose her again—and he certainly could not lose her this way.
He dove under the water. Swift, sure strokes propelled him forward in between taking breaths and looking for any sign of her. He was about to lose hope when moonlight landed on something gauzy. Oh God, is that the jacket she had on tonight?
Making a desperate dive, he grabbed for it and fortunately connected with her arm. He was able to come up behind her and lock his forearm under her chin. She flailed hard, almost taking him under when she gripped his shirt and pulled downward. Exhausted, she finally gave in and relaxed against him. Lance treaded water toward the shore, keeping her firmly in his grasp.
He managed to get them back onto the beach and she collapsed onto the wet turf.
She shivered as he held her close.
“I’m here; you’re safe, baby.”
She clung to him, shedding the tears she must have been holding back for over seventeen years.
April’s hair was puffy and wet. Melted mascara gave her an owl-like appearance. The waves had taken Lance’s loafers, but he couldn’t care less. He had his prize.
Her voice was barely audible when she said, “Lance … I would’ve—”
“I’m not going to lose you again—not now, not ever.”
They lay on the beach, entwined for what seemed like hours, as she cried the tears of a woman who had been deeply hurt and needed to release—tears that he had never meant to cause.
“Please forgive me,” he whispered into her hair. “Please forgive me for hurting you …”
* * *
Morning brought a new reality as the sun warmed their skin. She was still in his arms, her body against his. She held onto him as if she never wanted to let him go.
He tenderly tilted her head towards his and gently planted a kiss on her lips—a kiss that teased her and asked a question he was too afraid to ask.
April’s lips parted, welcoming him to taste her, promising much more than words could say.
Only when she laid her head on his chest and he heard the words, “I forgive you, Lance. I forgive you,” did he finally release the terrible anxiety he hadn’t realized he was holding. And only then did he realize that they would have a second chance at love.
Susan D. Peters’ first book, a memoir, Sweet Liberia, Lessons from the Coal Pot, received the Black Excellence Award for Non-Fiction from the African American Alliance of Chicago and in the book was awarded a prize for Non-Fiction from the Illinois Press Women’s Association. Broken Dolls, Susan’s second book, represents her foray into the mystery market and is the first of a series featuring Detective Joi Sommers as its heroine. Additionally her work is featured in three anthologies, Baring It All, the Ins and Outs of Publishing and scheduled for a mid-September release, Signed, Sealed, Delivered … I’m Yours, a romance anthology running the gambit of nice and naughty and The Anthology of the Illinois Woman’s Press Association. Her books are available at www.susandpeters.com
Could It Be I’m Falling In Love
by Candy Jackson
Chapter 1
“And there you have him, folks. Our perpetrator, Daryl Crown,” Detective Robert Crenshaw said, gesturing to the blurry image on the screen before scanning the solemn faces of the officers in the dimly lit room. He was the lead detective and had been working with the FBI to track down counterfeiters for the last year.
“No priors, no criminal record, and no family history,” he continued, pacing the length of the squad room. “He just showed up in our area and started passing bad money.”
A chorus of groans came from the assembled officers and detectives. It signaled the same disappoint
ment Crenshaw once felt. Counterfeiters were some of the worst criminals. Their deceitful acts hit the poor and elderly the hardest. The impact on the children would be even worse because once the parents were caught, arrested and eventually sentenced, their children would become part of the system. Yes, the children would suffer the most.
“Crown’s been busy,” Crenshaw continued. “Gauging from his hit list, he’s unfortunately been successful, too. Case in point.” He flipped the list. “He pinched a Western Union bill pay center in Montgomery County. A Walmart in Howard County. Then an Ace Check Cashing Center in P.G. County.” Detective Crenshaw slapped the list against his thigh as he finished, “A total of fourteen thousand dollars in bogus bills was exchanged for legitimate money orders between these three locations alone.”
Captain Lawrence, who had been standing on the other side of Crenshaw, walked away from the display and stood at the podium. “But where he went wrong,” the Captain announced, “was his pinch attempt at the Capital One bank in Largo.”
Crenshaw actually smiled. “He tried to purchase about eight thousand dollars in cashier’s checks. The teller had the good sense to call for a supervisor’s approval first, and when they returned to the counter, he was gone.”
Crenshaw clicked the remote and switched to a clearer image of Daryl Crown wearing dark shades, carrying a brown duffle bag, and holding a woman’s hand. His smile widened. “The wall-mounted camera recorded his image.”
The men and women of the counterfeit unit broke into toothy grins. A real break. Too often counterfeiting was a quiet crime that went unpunished. The thieves moved in, pinched hard, and were out of town before the money could be traced back to the head of the operation. But this team had a far better success record than most. The men and women of the unit strived to keep it that way.
“Finally, we have a decent photo of his ugly mug,” Crenshaw announced. The large monitor filled with the face of Daryl Crown. Crenshaw watched as the smiles became even brighter.
“Prince George’s County police department notified us that he already hit the Washington, Maryland, and Virginia areas, but they were never able to identify him.”
“Until now,” Lopez, one of the youngest and more eager detectives, supplied.
“That’s right,” Captain Lawrence said.
Detective Crenshaw took his seat next to Harold Fisher, his partner, while Captain Lawrence took over the briefing.
Fisher leaned in, whispering, “You know who’s next in rotation, right?”
Harold Fisher loved cases like these. He claimed they kept him out long enough that, by the time he got home, Mona and the children were asleep. But Crenshaw knew that was just talk. The man loved his family. Mona and his daughters treated him like a king.
“Detectives Crenshaw and Fisher, this one’s yours,” the Captain announced, causing a wave of fist bumps, high-fives, and congratulatory nods from fellow officers.
“You two know the drill. This summer is going to be a scorcher. Where there’s too much heat, tempers flare, and people lose it. So find Crown and shut him down before things get too hot.”
With their orders, the unit disbanded and headed out of the conference room.
“Let’s nab this guy fast. The last thing I want is to spend my summer chasing a ghost,” Crenshaw mumbled as he filed out of meeting with the rest of the unit.
“So what are you up to if it isn’t making this city safe for our law-abiding citizens?” Fisher asked, falling in step with Crenshaw.
Good question.
Crenshaw’s divorce from his wife of ten years had spiraled him into a series of senseless one-night stands. His summer was all about making some definite changes in his life. His gaze lifted towards Fisher as they headed to the locker room. “I need something that police work can’t bring me. I intend to find the perfect woman.”
Chapter 2
Erin Gray frowned as the spry old woman with salt-and-pepper hair sauntered past. The principal of Amidon Bowen Elementary school—Erin’s boss—was a royal pain in every teacher’s butt.
“I don’t know why she would call for an assembly on the last freaking day of school,” Erin mumbled as Jordan, her co-worker, came to stand to her left.
“The old girl has finally lost the rest of her mind,” Jordan said.
Erin and Jordan had suffered under the not-so-pleasant reign of Principal Walker for years. To Walker’s way of thinking, there were only two ways to do things—her way or a deep ditch. Fostering camaraderie amongst the teaching staff and being a team player were not high on her list of priorities.
Erin dabbed a napkin to her damp forehead as a new group of students entered the auditorium.
“Come on, kids. Let’s go all the way down front.” She gestured to an empty row. “Right here. Fill up, please. Everyone’s going to need a seat.”
The grumbles that ensued signaled that kids wanted out. Erin couldn’t blame them. She could read them like a book. They wanted to get home, rip off their blue and white uniforms, and get drenched under the nearest sprinkler or hydrant spray. This kind of heat was bad news. Too much heat made sane people do crazy things.
Jordan grimaced as a bunch of rowdy six graders came in. “You know this means we’re going to be here another two hours, right?”
Erin shrugged. “It’s not like I have a man waiting to take me to some exotic destination for the summer.” She made her way down toward the stage. “I’m going home to do the same thing I’ve been doing since I got my master’s.”
“Nothing,” Jordan chimed in.
“You got it.” Erin swept a gaze across her students. “But I love my babies, and if having them here a little longer keeps them out of trouble …”
“I hear you,” Jordan grumbled, narrowing a gaze at the tallest of the children in her row. “My bunch isn’t nearly as under control as yours.”
Erin chuckled, nudging the smaller woman in the side. “That’s because they know I mean business.”
“Whatever,” Jordan shot back, turning up her nose with disdain.
Allison, the freckle-faced second grade teacher, walked up behind them. “What’s going on, Erin? Do you know what this is about?”
Erin parted her mouth to speak, then froze. Her gaze tracked the threesome of adults walking in and their every move. “Check out the two cops that just walked in behind Principal Walker.”
Three pairs of eyes locked on the trio as they sauntered up the aisle then up the steps leading to the stage. The tallest one looked at her and his lips lifted in a slow, easy smile.
Erin blinked and blinked again. Her eyes shot to Jordan. “Did she just throw a little swing in her hips?”
“You saw it too?” Jordan said, laughing.
“As if,” Allison giggled.
Erin could have mistaken the two men following behind the principal for two well-dressed administrators if it weren’t for the guns bulging in their backs, or if it weren’t for the fact that Erin had had more than one run-in with the dark handsome one who sometimes served as security at the school and who insisted on checking every student’s book bag on the way—even her babies’. Once he had even had the nerve to ask her out so they could put all the tension aside.
“I don’t date cops,” she had declared.
“Why?” he had asked.
“I have my reasons,” she shot back. “None of them are up for discussion.”
He kept his distance after that, but from time to time, she could feel him watching. Like now.
“Hey, I think Attila the Hun’s trying to get your attention.” Jordan gestured towards the stage where the two men stood next to the principal.
Erin blinked out of her private thoughts and pointed to herself.
Principal Walker nodded.
Two minutes later, she was standing on the side of the stage where Principal Walker handed her a piece of paper. “I want you to introduce our guests from the speaker podium. Their names are on that slip.” Principal Walker gave a smile that didn’t
quite reach her reptilian eyes. “Now, be excited; give ‘em that ‘ole Wildcat spirit,” she said, referring to the school’s mascot. The woman even had the nerve to pump her fist.
Erin narrowed a gaze at Walker. Why had the old frog singled her out? She approached the podium, and the crowed settled down. “Good afternoon,” Erin said, addressing the expectant crowd.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Gray,” the crowd chorused.
“We have”—Erin glanced at the slip—“Detective Crenshaw and Detective Fisher from the Metropolitan police department with us today.” She scanned the crowd. “While I know you’re ready to get under those sprinklers and take those wonderful trips with your families, these officers have an important message. I certainly want to see you back here this fall. The officers are going to give you some summer safety tips so you’ll do just that.”
Erin exited the stage to a few innocent giggles. She shushed the crowd as she returned to her seat. Then her eyes snagged on one of the second graders showing signs of dehydration. Quickly, she escorted him to the bathroom to clear the blood from his nose.
When they returned, Principal Walker was giving her closing remarks. “Now children, remember what the nice detectives said about not talking to strangers and always walking in pairs. Stay safe, and remember to always be in before dark.”
The taller of the two officers locked gazes with Erin from across the room. He had dreamy, cocoa eyes that screamed bedroom, and his complexion was like smooth coffee. He wore his hair cut close to his head and had a hint of a five o’clock shadow.
She quickly slid her glance to the child she had escorted back into the assembly. The last thing she needed or wanted was an officer of the law no matter if he was fine as all get-out. Thanks to dear old dad, she had been down that road and learned that cops were often so busy protecting each other, they didn’t have time to protect the ones they claimed to love.
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